


I GET TO LOVE YOU

by angelwriter



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 6000 Years of Pining (Good Omens), 6000 Years of Slow Burn (Good Omens), Bottom Aziraphale (Good Omens), M/M, Passion, Romantic Soulmates, Top Crowley (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 01:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20267860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelwriter/pseuds/angelwriter
Summary: The moon gazed down at the two of them in the silence of the Bentley, the only other entity watching them. The engine was switched off so Mozart's You Take My Breath Away had stopped playing. Aziraphale had picked up some of the lyrics and wondered if Crowley purposefully played that song. He wondered who the artist was and how he had loved someone so much the way Aziraphale loved Crowley.The one line he latched onto was:"I could give up all my life for just one kissI would surely die if you dismiss me from your love"





	I GET TO LOVE YOU

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by an interview of Good Omens at the London Premiere. What happens after the Ritz and how Crowley and Aziraphale have loved each other through the 6000 years together...

"Whatever may come, your heart I will choose. Forever I am yours, forever I do. I get to love you.

The way you love; it changes who I am. I am undone."

Ruelle - I Get To Love You 

"Poor puzzled moon he wore a frown  
How could he know we two were so in love?"- A Nightingale sang in Berkeley Square (original version 1930s/NOT the rewritten extra romantic version that Tori Amos sang in Good Omens TV series)

PROMPT:

(London Premiere for Good Omens) 

Michael Sheen: (staring lovingly at David, head cocked towards him affectionately, heart eyes pumping, radiant smile, said in a soft and tender voice)   
.."So you know they are going to end up....in each other's arms"....(turning to the interviewer, trying to regain composure and not go total feral-fanboy mode in public) ...."psychologically speaking of course". 

David: (meeting Michael's enthusiasm and offering just a little tease himself) ... "at least".....

***

"I love you and there is no coming back from this." 

Aziraphale hummed against Crowley nuzzling his neck as the words he spoke fanned hot against his skin. He knew Crowley loved him, he could never admit he knew though. It was obvious and Aziraphale always tried to play his feelings off. He could have gotten into a lot of trouble for loving Crowley and despite everything he was more afraid of what Heaven would do to Crowley than him if they found out. He was a demon after all and loving an angel was not just forbidden but like an insult to his side. Aziraphale had spent millenia learning how not to stare too long at Crowley, avoid his touches, dismiss his flirtations and temptations (when he could help it). They had an Agreement to work together for centuries, both doing a miracle and a temptation. It was the only thing Aziraphale had allowed. 

Before the mishap with the Nazi's when Aziraphale found it impossible not to recognise his own love for Crowley and admire just how much of a kind creature he was besides his demonic nature and dark aesthetic. Crowley had saved him and his books. He knew then that Crowley really did care for him. But it was before all of that in the 90s, that Aziraphale was turning over the dangers of his side finding out he had been seeing Crowley.

As Aziraphale recalled they had had a fight in London by St James Park. They were both angry at each other. Aziraphale wanted to save Crowley from his side destroying him and Crowley thought Aziraphale was ashamed of him and their relationship. (Whatever their relationship meant at the time). They had said they didn't need each other but that was not true. They had spent most of the early 19th century apart until their meeting during 1967 in Soho. Aziraphale had given Crowley the Holy Water he required. 

Crowley said it was "insurance" and whatever he wanted to do with it Aziraphale rather would give it to him himself than see him pull off a ridiculous plan to attain it. Crowley had been so soft and tender that night that it pained Aziraphale. He offered Aziraphale a lift, basically begged him to go somewhere with him. Anywhere he wanted to go. Crowley was even thinking of saying thank you to Aziraphale. Flashes of Heaven smiting him and taking Crowley away from him forever played over in his mind. The only words he thought to say that did not directly say everything he wanted to was:

You go too fast for me, Crowley. 

If Crowley did not pick up the inner depth to that statement, to anyone else it would have just meant that Crowley drove the Bentley too fast. But Crowley knew - he always knew - and behind his glasses you could see the confusion mixed with sadness swirling in his golden eyes. His lips were stuck out in visable a pout. He had never seen the demon so distraught before. Aziraphale had tried to convey that he wanted to pause, slow down, put a brake on all these thousands upon thousands of built up emotions that he knew both of them felt. It was getting harder for Aziraphale not to give in. 

If they didn't stop then something terrible was going to happen and Aziraphale could not have anything bad happen to Crowley. Then the bombing of the church happened and it awoke something. Stoked fire on the embers that had not burnt out his feelings for Crowley. Crowley had given him a lift back home to his bookshop. The moon gazed down at the two of them in the silence of the Bentley, the only other entity watching them. The engine was switched off so Mozart's You Take My Breath Away had stopped playing. Aziraphale had picked up some of the lyrics and wondered if Crowley purposefully played that song. He wondered who the artist was and how he had loved someone so much the way Aziraphale loved Crowley. 

The one line he latched onto was: 

"I could give up all my life for just one kiss  
I would surely die if you dismiss me from your love"

Aziraphale had fiddled with his hands on his lap, Crowley waiting for him to get out of the car. Before he opened the car door, Aziraphale shut his eyes and impulsively leaned in to kiss Crowley's lips once. Just once. Gentlemen in France did that. London was no different in certain eras. He could pass it as a quick thankfulness. As soon as his lips touched the softness of Crowley's everything else sparked inside of him. That lighting flash burned under his eyelids and warmed his veins brighter and hotter than Heavenly fire. 

Crowley didn't let him move away. Crowley melted into the kiss and held Aziraphale's face carefully with his one hand, the other forcefully gripping the Bentley's steering wheel. Their lips met and neither moved or pulled away. It must have been serveral minutes and both of them were powerless under the kiss. Crowley sighed soundly like he had finally gotten what he had been craving for since Eden. Aziraphale smiled into the kiss and decided to go against his own desires by pulling away. He couldnt allow himself any more than that. Crowley looked back at him with a small smile playing on his lips. 

"Goodnight," he said and sat back into his seat. 

Aziraphale looked rather flushed and bid him a goodnight in return. They had not kissed again until after the Ritz and the Non-Armageddon. Now they were in each other's arms. Together at last. 

"I love you!" Aziraphale exclaimed in reply, feeling so full of emotions. "I always loved you! Always. Always. My dear boy." 

Crowley groaned low at his confession. It sounded like it was tearing him apart. After so many, many years of having to go slowly for the sake of saving each other, finally he was allowed to speak it out loud. It shattered him. He was like a puppet with its mouth stitched closed, fighting out little words at a time, desperately trying to show his love in little ways. 

Inviting Aziraphale to lunch.   
Saving him on occasion.  
Giving him lifts.   
Drinking past his limit with him.   
Meeting up at the park.   
Asking him to run away with him.   
Cleaning his clothes despite the angel having the power to miracle it clean himself.   
Not letting any part of his body touch him except for that one time at the manor where he couldnt help press his hips into Aziraphale and plaster him against the wall. 

Did the angel even know what he was saying that day? He had allowed himself to slip up. He was speaking praises to Crowley, telling him he was good and kind and so un-demon like. If the powers of Hell had heard him...Crowley had to tell him to shut up. He was angry and frustrated. Even more so when Aziraphale's hot body was lined up ever so neatly into his own. Crowley never forgot the searing warmth of Aziraphale. The way his rough Victorian waistcoat buttons bit into his black shirt. The way his trousers teased the seams of his dark pants. How his hands were gripping his shirt so forcefully and achingly that it took every single ounce of his willpower not to make noises at the relief of having his angel so close after so long. 

Aziraphale did what Crowley never expected him to do. His expression remained composed and neutral. He was calm, his eyes displaying the green flecks in the blue of his irises that no one had seen up close before. He was safe in Crowley's grasp. Their noses brushed. Aziraphale could feel the gasp that Crowley took from the heave of their chests pressed together. So close. Aziraphale was contemplating and thinking all at once. He remembered what it was like to kiss Crowley. Crowley swallowed and remembered the same. Their lips perfectly aligned...

But the nun had interrupted their intimate moment as she had worded it. A good thing too or Crowley was seconds away from having Aziraphale weak in his arms. He craved to sink his teeth into Aziraphale's neck and hear the sounds that would pass over his lips that no other being would have heard before. Just thought of that - being the only one to have Aziraphale in that way - had him bursting with desire. His body twisted with an unbidden sense of longing. It was more insatiable and irritating than an itch that just won't go away. He needed. And Crowley was literally woosey with the idea of actually being able to do all the things he wanted to do to Aziraphale. All the things he could do now since they were now alone in their very own cottage in South Downs. 

"Please," he begged, afraid no longer. "Angel, kiss me!" 

Aziraphale threaded his hands in the fiery curls and tiltled his head up to move him in the right angle for their lips to touch. The first touch after centuries left them breathless and each slide of their lips affirmed everything they had ever felt. They rose with it, like a rolling storm in their hearts rushing towards each other to collide. They feasted off each other's lips, spoke kind words on their flesh, made mirrored bites and marks of possession, kissed and treasured each caress of fingers on skin. Finally. Finally. 

Heat enclosed them. Their fingers entwined together, Crowley nipping at Aziraphale's shoulder as Crowley slipped into his wetness, eager and splitting in two at the precious feeling of being joined as one. If only Crowley knew why he had to Fall. If he had known that it would bring him Aziraphale, he would have done it again and again - sooner - all to be with him like this. He would do it all over again - the days fighting with the forces of Heaven and Hell, blasted Armageddon, losing and finding the Anti-Christ, the pain and suffering for the fucking ineffable plan. 

This was always the plan wasnt it, God? Crowley thought as he heard Aziraphale cry out and grip his forearms, sinking his nails over the muscles of his back as Crowley drove into him with the fluid rhythm of his snake-hips. This was the ineffable plan. They would have always wound up here. If they were never supposed to stop Armageddon, Angus Nutter would never have made a second book of prophecies. Which Anathema and Newt burned in a field, as Adam had told them. Newt had persuaded Anathema to create her own future. 

And so had Aziraphale and Crowley. For the time remaining that they had before Heaven and Hell waged war against Humanity and before the Next End Of The World, they had this. This was always what Crowley wanted. Him and his angel together. They were tethered to the story they were meant to tell and Crowley knew then at Garden that it was going to be a damn good story to tell. He had lived 6000 years by Aziraphale's side and he would live 6000 more. How ever long they had. This was the ineffable conclusion. 

Crowley got to love him and Aziraphale got to love him back. 

If you want to imagine a future imagine this: 

Aziraphale and Crowley together. Having more lunches and too much to drink that they slouch and stumble home, how they fall into bed together, have fast drives in the Bentley listening to more Queen that drives towards an infinite road in the distance. 

The angel and demon were always meant to fall in love. So they continue on in a blissful, nestled piece inside these pages forever. 

Song: Turning Pages - Sleeping At Last


End file.
